


Runt

by octopus_fool



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Gen, Horror, Orcs, Orcs Being Orcs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: Gorbag has the worst morning of his life.





	Runt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the March 1 number G48. My prompts were "Shelob" (Card 81 - Five Books, Five Characters), "Chains, Prison, and Torture" (Card 103 - Horror) and "A Mountain or Mountains" (Card 145 - Person vs. Nature).

Gorbag woke up with the taste of liquor in his mouth. Old liquor. The taste of regret, the taste of wondering if you would ever be able to see again. The taste of the next morning. And the drums in Gorbag’s head told him that it definitely was the next morning. 

He decided it was time to face the inevitable. He braced himself against the onslaught of light that would hit his sensitive pupils the moment he opened his eyes. It didn’t come. There was complete darkness. Gorbag could feel the fear rising in his throat. Grubdarzh had assured them that he had made the liquor himself, with utmost care. That nobody would become blind from his brew. 

He could only try to get Brindush’s cure soon enough, if Brindush had any. Gorbag felt for the side of his bed. But he was not in his bed. As soon as he moved his hand, he felt the rough scratch of inexpertly forged metal against his wrists. He tugged, and heard the chains echoing in the darkness. He pulled them taught and felt the resistance of the chains as they reached their full length and clanked against the ring in the wall. Gorbag’s feet were free, but that wouldn’t save him.

Because he knew what was happening. Every orcling knew the stories. He could scream and he could shout, but the more he struggled against the chains, the sooner She would come to claim her prize. She could feel the stirring of the air, the grinding of the chains against the ring. Gorbag could only lie as quietly as he could, breathe as softly as he could. And all that would only delay the inevitable. She would find him, She would kill him, She would suck the juices out of him. Nobody would miss the runt they had left for Her.

Except that he wasn’t the runt of his litter. Ufthak was. He ran slower than the others, lost nearly every fight, quivered at the tasks their captain set them. Ufthak was the one you could kick without needing to fear any consequences. But it hadn’t been Ufthak who stumbled over a stone when they marched along the mountain road in training, sliding down the slope and unable keep up afterward, his skin covered in bruises. Ufthak hadn’t been the one to lose time and time again in training this past week. Gorbag could still hear Ufthak’s howl of triumph as he stood over Gorbag, his scimitar to his opponent’s throat. And Ufthak wasn’t lying here in chains, left in the tunnels to appease Her. 

Gorbag could hear the blood ringing in his ears. He needed to calm down, or She might be able to hear his heart racing. The scent of the iron chain rose into his nose together with the mould of the ancient tunnels. His stomach churned and Gorbag swallowed thickly against the fear and the taste of the liquor. 

A drop of water dripped from the ceiling somewhere in the tunnel. And was that the tip-tapping of spider feet on the walls of the tunnel? She was said to be surprisingly silent. 

Gorbag held his breath, listening. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. His muscles tensed for a fight in which he stood no chance, which would be over before it even started. He wondered what She would do with the chains, if she would just break his wrists. He swallowed and tried not to think about it. Perhaps, if he broke them himself, he would stand a chance?

There. There was definitely a sound in the tunnels. A flicker of light in the distance. She did not like light, would never use light. But if he had been left here to appease Her, shouting would be in vain, nobody would save him. Gorbag considered giving it a try anyway.

The torchlight flickered closer and laughter rang out in the gloom. It was Shagrat’s laugh, followed by Ufthak’s high-pitched giggle. A wave of relief and anger swept over Gorbag as he realised what had happened. 

Gorbag managed to struggle to his feet just before they turned the corner. 

“Oh, She hasn’t found you then, has She?” Shagrat asked innocently.

Ufthak giggled. “Were you scared?”

“Very funny,” Gorbag growled. “I saw through your little game right away. And now unlock the chains, or I’ll make you feel very sorry about this.”

Shagrat waved a hand and Ufthak hurried to unlock Gorbag’s chains, making sure to accidently hit him with the keyring in the process. 

Gorbag only hoped that neither of them would see how his knees were trembling or notice how badly his breeches were in need of washing.


End file.
